


Right Hand Man

by TheOtherCourse (kanevixen)



Series: Tom and Abigail Series [8]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Co-workers, F/M, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Train Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:12:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3396524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanevixen/pseuds/TheOtherCourse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In July 2011, Immediately following the Avengers shoot (moved from April-August to January-June).Tom Hiddleston and his costar, Abigail Morgan are drawn into a very private and torrid affair.</p><p> </p><p>
  <img/>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Hand Man

**Author's Note:**

> written for just-the-fics-maam (on tumblr) Right Hand Man by Joan Osborne challenge using my characters (words in italics are lyrics from the song)

Sleep eluded me.

That’s a lie.

Sleep was chased away, beaten back with a cricket bat, kept at bay, waiting in the wings, due to one certain Englishman with a voracious sexual appetite. Sleep had become a friendly occasional acquaintance more than a regular welcome visitor. I wasn’t complaining about the amazing orgasms or the closeness I felt at the hand of the man I’d been crushing on for a month. I could finally speak to his talent as an actor and now as a lover.

Tom invited, cajoled, seduced, encouraged, and persuaded me away from living with sleep to lying in his bed recovering from yet another climax.

That’s a lie.

I was usually recovering from yet another climax wherever I happened to be when the mood struck him, whenever it struck him, however it struck him. Sometimes it wasn’t even about the pleasure for him; it was my reaction to his hand, his knee, his thigh muscle, any part of his body he could employ to see my skin flushed pink, my breathing rushed, my pulse hammering in my chest, and my body coming back from orgasm before he made me come again on his cock.

_Let me us your toothbrush_

_Have you got a clean shirt?_

Standing before the bathroom mirror, wondering how ended up in his flat again, I wondered if he would actually invite me properly so I could prepare an overnight bag at some point. If I was honest with myself, I never expected this fling, this thing, this affair, this whatever the hell we were to be more than a shag in my dressing room.

Or a one night thing.

Or a few nights thing.

Or a few weeks thing.

My thinking changed and adjusted with every night we spent in each other’s company, after he got me alone again, away from our coworkers. I was never prepared to spend another night in Tom’s flat, assuming he’d get his fill of me and move on to the next lover for his bed. My reflection mentally tried to figure out how to brush my teeth, how to rush to my flat to get clean clothes.

_My panties in a wad_

_At the bottom of my purse_

My costar had talked me out of my knickers before getting on the tube on the way to his flat after rehearsal yesterday. He’d fucked me in my dressing room again, insisting that he wasn’t done with me for the evening and I was needed in his bed. I agreed, I always agreed because I didn’t like being alone and well, I fancied him.

“Abigail,” that sexy whisper said directly into my ear, sending a shot of eroticism to the apex of my thighs. The tube was full with theatre passengers, tourists, and workaholics doing their best to ignore one another. Tom secured me to him with an arm around my waist, his body flush with mine. He licked the shell of my ear and blew a warm stream of air over the moistened spot.

“Mmm…” The only response I could manage, already seduced by the whisper and his erection pressing into my belly. I gripped the bar steadily to keep myself on my feet, resisting the urge to beg him to take me right then and there, in front of all these people to see if they would notice or see.

“You’re not wearing knickers, and that’s all I can think about.”

“You wouldn’t let me,” I protested, my voice hitched lowly to keep our conversation private.

“Because I like you without knickers,” he nuzzled into my hair, inhaling my scent, his routine in getting me into bed. The train stopped and I heard the ‘Mind the Gap’. I didn’t take note of where we were since Tom had me completely swept up in his seduction, his teeth, his tongue, and his breath all performing erotic acts on my ear and neck. Through the shuffle of people getting on and off, he maneuvered me around so my back was pressed into the corner of the sliding doors and the railing of the seats. “I want to touch you. Here, now.”

My eyes flew open from the power of the suggestion, horror registering in an instant. There was no way I could let him do that with any hope of retaining my dignity, without giving myself away and betraying my pleasure. I could already feel my sex wet from the suggestion and all he’d been doing, verbally and teasing touches and suggestions. “Tom, we can’t.”

“Nobody’s watching. I want to see you get off. Nobody cares what others are doing on the underground.” His right hand gathered the folds of my skirt, the skirt he urged I wear for easy access, hiking the material up to my thigh.

Grabbing his wrist to stop him, I shook my head, discouraging him. “Somebody might see. Somebody will most certainly hear me.”

Kissing my neck with open mouthed nibbles, edging me ever closer to yielding to him, he moaned, the sound fanning my desire. “Abigail, you don’t want me to stop.” He squeezed my thigh, and my pelvis rocked involuntarily forward into him, the movement restricted by how close he stood. “You want me to touch you, get you off right here, right now.”

Damning prudence, pushing it aside, I nodded slightly, barely giving him permission with Joseph Somebody, the Businessman with the drinking problem, the ex-wife, and the alimony payments he couldn’t afford sitting three feet away. The heavy erotic want pressing, sitting hard at my center wouldn’t let me deny him.

_The air’s so cool_

_I’m wired and I’m tired_

The tube came to a stop at another exchange, with the doors opening on the other side, thank heavens. I felt the air stir between my legs, the moisture Tom created with his bedroom talk seeping down at the tops of my thighs. He created a wanton woman, with those magic fingers and enchanting voice.

His fingers grazed up the inside of my thigh, and ventured to the moistness just above. My heartbeat pounded in my chest in time with the lights flashingscreaming by in the underground tunnel as his fingertip made contact with my slit. “So ready for me to fuck you, Abby, and I will.” His digit shallowly traced along my lips, my head relaxing backwards, my eyelids fluttering closed. My focus centered in on that fleeting touch, like a laser point, anticipating the next move, the next assassination attempt on my sanity and pride.

I breathed out through parted lips, “Yes, Thomas…”

With a circular motion, his middle finger braved the depths of my heat, deeper and higher. “Abby… so willing…” He thrust that one finger upwards, as far as he could reach. Again and again. I mewled quietly, my head falling forwards to bury the sound from my throat in the folds of that insanely sexy leather jacket. Another finger joined the first, my knees sagging with the mind altering pleasure, my hips sagging for more mind altering pleasure. “Steady, woman.” His arm held me stronger, balancing my weight against the bar and the wall of his body.

I sobbed into his chest, the material of his clothing absorbing the sound as his fingers pushed, pressed in and retreated, pulled out again. Tom added a twist and flick of his wrist, my center riding his hand. “That’s it, woman. Tell me how you want it.” He compressed my sweet bundle of nerves at the top of my sex, my body jerking with the stimulation.

My body climbed, my crisis built, my brain fought the vocalizations, my throat constricted to keep from screaming. I held my breath, Tom’s endless stream of filthy things he’d do to me once he got me alone, every position imaginable. The tube lurched to a stop, but my climax kept going. My channel clamped down on his fingers and released in rhythmic bliss. I slumped into Tom, concentrating on the pleasure drumming through my body. My limbs vibrated and shook with the powerful consuming gratification, sated and spent.

As I regained the use of my legs, feeling like jelly beneath, I looked up into Tom’s triumphant, proud smiling face, his blue eyes gleaming with male arrogance. He lifted his fingers to his mouth, tasting my desire for him, my appreciation for his right hand.

_And I’m grinnin’ like a fool_

The remainder of the journey to his flat was uneventful in comparison to my climax. He was just as eager to follow through with his naughty promises as I was to see them through. His impressive erection navigated the way back to his flat, and he had me on the floor within twenty seconds. My back was on very familiar terms with the dark hardwood planks of the foyer floor.

_I’ve been on the floor lookin’ for a chair_

_I’ve been on the chair lookin’ for a couch_

_And I’ve been on the couch lookin’ for a bed…_

_Lookin’ for a bed_

Every night was nearly identical, his cock searching for the sanctuary my body provided. We never quite made it to the bedroom straightaway, rather our anxiousness forcing into the closest surface available. The first fortnight of this thing, this affair, this whatever we were was a rush of one orgasm flowing into the next.

Tom quickly learned my weakness for climaxing on his right hand from that tube ride, and determined our foreplay from early on. That fact was a source of vanity and bragging rights for him. He delighted in playing my body like a finely tuned guitar, making me sing with the intensity of my peak.

_My right hand, my right hand man_

_My right hand, my right hand man_

_If he can’t fix it, I don’t know who can_

_Use me up if you think you can_


End file.
